


Fear of Power

by Emptynarration



Series: Twisted Minds AU [7]
Category: Youtube RPF, Youtube egos
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apologies, Bad Dreams, Character Death, Choking, Cuddles, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Fear, Fever, Hand Feeding, Headaches & Migraines, Hiding, Holding, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Insanity, Killing, M/M, Madness, Major Illness, Manipulation, Mind Manipulation, Murder, Nightmares, Pain, Scary, Sick Character, Sleep, Sleepiness, Sleeping Together, Suffering, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, afraid, exploring powers, lots of swearing, snuggles, suffocating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27474136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emptynarration/pseuds/Emptynarration
Summary: Host has power, more than anyone would think.He could manipulate reality. But how far could he take it?And what would his doctor do if he tried to manipulatehim?
Relationships: The Host/Dr Iplier
Series: Twisted Minds AU [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1425355
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Fear of Power

**Author's Note:**

> Sidenote: Egos can't _die_ die, so the character death is only temporary!

He didn't feel well.

He was hiding in his room. It wasn't unusual, really. While he was usually in the doctor's clinic, he tended to hide in his room whenever the doctor became too much for him, and he just had to get away.  
Plus, he had collected every pillow and blanket he could from the mansion and gathered it in his room. He had a little pile of softness, and that was his favourite place to be, when he wasn't with Edward. Edward, rather than the doctor. Host had started to make a distinction between the two -Doctor Iplier was the mad one, the one who hurt him, and Edward was the “sane” one, the kind one, the one who genuinely cared about his well-being.

Host had gotten more used to his new powers. He was pretty good at the whole Seeing thing, as long as he kept narrating. And he was used to living a bit in the future now -always knowing what was going to happen a little bit before it was going to happen. And his visions... were still a mystery to him.  
They came unpredictably and randomly, sometimes so strong he was screaming and sobbing for an hour, sometimes as short as a minute, barely enough to make him gasp sharply. He didn't understand them, and he struggled with each one. Deciphering what they meant was nearly impossible for him; usually he was just guessing, trying to find some meaning for what he had seen. When they happened around the doctor, he had to try and explain what he's seen, even though he struggled to comprehend it all himself.

There was only one thing Host hadn't really explored yet. He knew there was something else he could do. He's.. done it, before. He remembered how he's accidentally done it to the doctor before, and.. he's tried it on his own, too.  
He could alter reality. He wasn't sure how well he could do it, but, he knew he could. He could do it.  
He was a little afraid about really trying it out though. Maybe he could... stop the doctor from hurting him. Maybe he could make sure Edward would be able to be there more, maybe Host could... make sure the doctor wouldn't come back.  
Host hugged his pillow tightly, afraid. Afraid of what? He knew the doctor would be angry at him if he used his powers. He _knew_ he would be, if he used his powers _on the doctor_.  
But he should try it, shouldn't he? He could make his life that much better. He could make sure Edward would be alright, and maybe... maybe Host could even help all of the other egos as well. Could make sure they would _all_ be okay.

“Ho~st~”, the doctor pushed open Host's door, happily walking inside. Host tensed, looking towards the man. Of course he'd come right when he thought of him.   
“There's my lovely! What are you doing _here?_ ”, Iplier hummed, walking over to Host. Host knew the doctor would grab his pillow to pull it away from him, and then get him to his feet to pull him along with him.  
“Iplier stops in his tracks.”, Host narrated softly, trying to put all his intent into it. Iplier would stop. He'd stop walking. Host _wanted_ him to stop, so he would.  
And Iplier did stop, freezing in his tracks. Eyes widening as he looked at Host.  
“The doctor feels calm, listening to Host. He feels the madness slip from his mind leaving-”, Host gasped when Iplier wrapped his hand around Host's throat suddenly, glaring bloody murder at Host. He had broken through Host's narrations, seeing how unused Host was to narrating things that weren't yet true.

“You stupid little _fuck_.”, Iplier growled, his grip on Host's throat hard enough to cut off all air-supply for him, his hands moving to clutch onto Iplier's wrist.  
“You think you can manipulate _me?_ How fucking _dare you_. You're _mine_ , and not some high and mighty fucker.”, he grabbed Host's hair with his free hand, yanking his head back to expose more of his throat, letting the doctor see his thin skin stretch uncomfortably.  
“Stupid fucking brat. I'll teach you not to fuck with me again.”, Iplier's voice was an angry growl, and Host couldn't breathe, pulling at Iplier's wrist, unable to get it away. He was dizzy, he needed to _breathe_ , but Iplier wasn't letting him.  
“I fucking _dare you_ to try that shit again.”, Host heard Iplier say, before his consciousness slipped from him, and soon Iplier had managed to choke his pet to death. Even once Host wasn't moving any more, Iplier kept his hand wrapped tightly around his throat for a couple more minutes, before letting go and standing up.

When Host woke up about twelve hours later again, he could feel the hard steel table beneath him, the bright fluorescent light buzzing above him. He squirmed slightly, narrations slowly buzzing through his mind.  
“Iplier?..”, Host mumbled. He knew he was in the clinic. He could remember having angered Iplier, trying to narrate him. What had he done wrong? Maybe he hadn't wanted it enough? Maybe... he supposed he hadn't been confident enough in his words. He hadn't trusted himself enough. He hadn't trusted his powers to work. But they had, at first.  
“Ah, awake, are we?”, Iplier scoffed, walking over to where Host laid. “I hope you've learned your lesson now.”, he still sounded unhappy, making Host squirm uncomfortably. He didn't want him to be still angry at him, but maybe.. maybe he could help himself, now that he knew what he's done wrong.  
Iplier grabbed Host's chin, making sure the blind ego was facing him, his grip tight. He had something new to try out for Host anyways -he'd make sure his _darling_ would suffer some more for what he's tried to do.

Letting go of Host, Iplier walked away to go grab the syringe he had prepared. Host's quiet narrations were still mumbled, but he was taking deep breaths to brace himself for what he was going to try and do.  
“Iplier was searching for the virus he's made to infect the Host with, struggling with finding it. It was frustrating, and Host's constant mutters behind him didn't help. He slowly felt his frustrations fade away, blinking confusedly. What was he doing again?”, Host narrated softly. He put all his confidence into his words, putting as much power into them as he could manage.  
His mumbled narrations told him that it was working, and he tried to continue. He needed Edward to be here, to help him, so that Iplier wouldn't continue to bother him. He was a little afraid of the doctor, but... he needed him. But Edward- Edward was good. Edward would love him properly, right?  
“The doctor feels confused, looking back over at Host. He had wanted to do something to him, right? Or with him? He slowly walked back over to Host, feeling something bubbling inside of him.”, Host kept narrating, tense as Iplier did what he was narrating. He was still a little afraid to fail.

Iplier walked over to Host, looking down at him with a blank expression. Host was afraid. He didn't know how to speak more, what to narrate. He was afraid. He didn't want to make Iplier mad at him, he only wanted Edward to be there with him and help him.  
“Edward?”, Host said softly. Maybe letting him forget about what he had wanted to do to him was help enough. Maybe Edward would be helping him instead of making him sick.  
“Host.”, a smile found its way onto the doctor's lips, making Host relax slightly. He sounded fond, kind. It was- it gave Host some hope.  
“Of course. There's my sweetheart.”, Iplier chuckled, running a hand through Host's hair, before letting it slide down to Host's neck. His free hand went into his pocket, grabbing something. Host wasn't narrating enough to know what it was.  
“How could I forget about you?”, Iplier hummed, leaning down over Host. He kissed him gently, Host relaxing at the gentle affection. Until suddenly Iplier stabbed the syringe into his neck, making Host gasp.  
“My stupid little fucktoy was supposed to host a new virus!”, Iplier smirked, holding tightly onto the side of Host's neck, fingers digging into the bruises there. “You're fucking stupid. Thinking you could try that little trick again on me. _Not with me, cunt._ ”.

Host whimpered as he felt Edward inject whatever was inside of the syringe into him, gasping and whimpering as he felt it spread inside of his body. It hurt, it was uncomfortable, is squeezed through his veins.  
“D-doctor-”, he gasped, hands clenching into his coat, writhing on the table. It hurt, it hurt- _it hurt!_ He was breathing in a panic, but all that Iplier did was laugh, loud and booming, echoing, filling Host's head with a headache.   
“That's what you get you stupid whore. I've told you, I'll kill you however often I have to. I'll burn it into your stupid little brain. _You're mine_.”, Iplier growled, gripping Host's hair tightly, yanking his head back, pressing his free hand hard down on Host's chest.  
“And a stupid bitch like you won't get to use any sort of _powers_ on me.”, Iplier's voice was a dangerous growl, making Host whimper in fear. He had just wanted to be safe, and happy. He had just wanted Edward with him.   
“T-the- the Host's sorry- so sorry-”, Host sobbed, gasping for air he seemed to be unable to get into his lungs. It hurt, he felt like his lungs were being squeezed and crumbled up into tiny balls, ready to be thrown into the trash. He was hot and cold at the same time, he was sweating and wanting to get out of his clothes, but he was shaking and shivering.

“Shut the fuck up, stupid cunt. You better listen to me instead of thinking on your own.”, Iplier scoffed, leaning down over Host, putting his weight on his hands, pressing harder onto Host's neck and chest.  
“I-I'm sorry-”, Host couldn't help but sob breathlessly. He was gasping more and more, unable to breathe, his head full of stuffy cotton. It pressed against his skull a pressure behind his eyes trying to burst free. It hurt, extremely, and Host was yapping for breath, unable to get any air back into his lungs.  
“You're going to be when I'm done with you, stupid whore.”, Iplier smirked, chuckling in amusement as he watched Host struggling beneath him. He loved the pure _panic_ Host was showing him, how he wasn't able to breathe, how he was choking and writhing in pain.  
Until there was no air getting into Host's lungs any more, and he was suffocating, throat closed up. Iplier chuckled and laughed at Host's state, until Host stopped writhing, growing motionless once more. It was always such an amusement, watching Host struggling until his life left him.

Host was out for more than a day, coming back to himself sometime in the evening of the next day. He felt horrible. He was nauseous, bile burnt in the back of his throat. He was dizzy, laying down wasn't helping it either. He was sweating, his clothes and hair stuck uncomfortably on him, but he was shivering terribly.  
His breaths were wheezing. He felt like he couldn't breathe, his throat felt too tight. He tried to move, but his limbs felt like lead. He wanted to curl up and die -but he knew he _had_ just died, and it didn't help him in the slightest. It just made it worse, though at least he wasn't in so much pain any more.

“Ah, my little fucktoy's awake again.”, Iplier sauntered over, and Host could only whimper pathetically in reply. Iplier carded his fingers through Host's sweaty strands, touch almost gentle, if it weren't for how hard he scratched over Host's scalp.  
Host couldn't form any words, just little pained and breathless sounds leaving him. Iplier chuckled, moving to pick Host up off of the table -it made him whine painfully, laying limp in Iplier's arms. Every movement hurt, Host couldn't breathe when he was moved, but there was nothing he could do.  
“Lesson learned, I presume.”, Iplier hummed, carrying Host to a different room inside of the clinic -one of the private patient rooms, though they weren't really used much any more. Iplier laid Host down on the bed -which wasn't the most comfortable, but better than the metal table- and wrapped him into blankets so he was nice and warm.  
“Hh...”, Host squirmed, uncomfortable in the warmth, but there was nothing he could do at all. He was suffering, unable to grasp any thoughts and having no willpower to even attempt speaking.  
“Now now sweetheart, it'll be quite alright. You shouldn't be dying again from this. And if you do, oh well.”, Iplier chuckled, shrugging. Host most definitely had a fever, so he wouldn't be surprised if Host died from a too high fever. It had hit him full force when he gotten back to his body again, after all.

Host made a desperate and pathetic sound, unable to do anything. He could barely think, he couldn't get himself to speak. He was just suffering miserably, and all he wanted was some comfort, something good for him. But he wasn't getting that, and Iplier fully ignored him as he left again, leaving Host alone in bed to suffer.  
Host couldn't sleep with all of this. The fever, the inability to breathe properly, how hot and cold he was. He was extremely nauseous, feeling ready to throw up at any moment, but not enough he actually had to. He just hoped that it wouldn't get worse again, because he wasn't sure he could actually manage that again. He would have to suffer through this, until it finally got better.  
Too bad for him that it didn't get better any time soon. He was suffering for days, bound to bed and dependent on Iplier taking care of him. Which wasn't a lot, but at least Iplier made sure he stayed hydrated and got some food in him. That Host could barely keep anything down didn't exactly matter to the doctor.

After a week or so, it finally got better. At least a little bit -he could breathe a little easier, his fever was starting to go down again. He still couldn't leave the bed, moving was hard, he felt sluggish, his head was swimming when he did so much as sitting up.  
“Host?”, the doctor's voice was hesitant, and Host knew it must be Edward. He whimpered, shifting to reach out towards the man. Edward hurried over to Host, gently taking his hand and pushing his sweaty hair out of his face.  
“I'm here now Host. It's alright.”, Edward murmured softly. Host sobbed softly, still breathless, though at least he could breathe enough that sobbing was manageable and didn't leave him choking.  
Edward gently hushed Host's sobbing, reassuring him that he was alright. Once Host had calmed down, Edward gently and softly helped Host sit up, rubbing his back lightly. Host was sniffling, thankful when Edward helped him clean up.  
“I'll help you to the bathroom, okay? Let's get you cleaned up properly, and into some fresh clothes. And let's try and eat something too, okay?”, Edward spoke softly. Host whimpered softly, but he nodded lightly. He felt unsteady on his feet, clinging to Edward as they walked slowly.

Getting cleaned up was a lot of work, and Host had gotten close to throwing up, but he felt a bit better when he was clean and in fresh clothes. Thankfully going back to bed was easier, where he sat alone, waiting for Edward to come back.  
“There we are.”, Edward smiled when he came back with food, walking over to Host and sitting down next to him. Host leaned against Edward, shivering even though he had a blanket wrapped around him.   
“Come on. It's just some soup, it'll help you.”, Edward murmured. It was a hearty soup, and hopefully it'd help Host's nausea settle a little, as well as give him something easy to eat.  
“O-okay...”, Host managed. He let Edward help him eat, though he didn't get through much before he felt too nauseous to continue. Edward didn't mind, setting the bowl aside, and gently held Host against his side.  
“I'm sorry you have to go through this. I don't know about anything to help you heal faster.”, Edward murmured. He wished he could help Host, make sure he didn't have to stay so sick, but... he just didn't know how. He could help a the symptoms he knew Host had, but that was about it.

“Here, I have something for your fever. And then let's try to sleep a little.”, Edward said softly, gently rubbing Host's side. He wished he could do more, but there was only so much he could do, without knowing what exactly was wrong.  
“Ed..”, Host whimpered softly, holding onto Edward. He didn't want the doctor to leave him. He didn't want Edward's kindness to ever leave him. He didn't want Edward to succumb to his madness again.  
“It's okay. I'm here with you.”, Edward spoke softly, gently pressing a kiss to Host's temple. Even “sane”, Edward held a great fondness for Host, unable to help the slight possessiveness. It was just in his being, he couldn't help it. The doctor's madness was as much part of him as it wasn't, by now.  
Edward soon let go of Host, so he could help him take his medicine. Host whimpered, unhappy, but he knew Edward was just trying to help. And he knew it'd help, because Edward always helped him, no matter what.

Once the medicine was taken, Edward helped Host lay back down, gently tucking him in. He stayed at Host's side then, gently playing with Host's hair, murmuring soft reassurances to him. Host held onto Edward's free hand, happy to feel Edward's soft hand in his own.   
Until Host eventually drifted off to sleep. It wasn't an easy rest, his illness and visions making it hard to enjoy sleep. He was squirming and panting in his sleep, whimpering and whining. Everything was horrible, he was barely able to stay asleep -though he was more unable to wake up rather than wanting to stay asleep.  
When he woke up again, Host was sweating again, breath wheezing as he felt strangled. Which may be because of how Iplier was wrapped around him, holding him tight to himself. He seemed to be asleep himself, though he was holding Host tight enough he could be awake.  
Host knew it was better to let the man sleep. He didn't want to wake him up, afraid that Iplier would get mad at him if he did. He didn't want to anger Iplier again, he didn't want to suffer any more than he already had. He knew he would still get to suffer, because Iplier _loved_ to make him suffer.  
“Mh...”, Iplier hummed, nuzzling into Host's hair, making the sick man tense and squirm uncomfortably. He didn't want to be in this position. He just wanted to be left alone, but he knew that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

He could save himself. He could use his powers, and- no. _No_. He wouldn't use his powers, not _ever again_. Iplier had made it clear that he shouldn't be using them, that he would kill him as much and often as he had to in order to keep him from using them. Host wouldn't use them again.  
He knew he _could_ save himself, if he did use them. He knew that. He knew he had that power. But he also knew that he shouldn't. He _shouldn't_ , and he wouldn't. He wouldn't use his powers again, because Iplier would murder him, over and over, and he would hate his whole existence even more than he already did if Iplier kept killing him.  
He curled up as much as he could, trying to get his breath back, trying to breathe and stay calm. Sadly he couldn't be calm, he couldn't be peaceful in this situation. He whimpered and clung to Iplier, letting him pull him closer to the other's chest. Even if Iplier wasn't... _good_ , at least he kept him safe from the other egos. He kept him safe from everyone. And no matter how many times Iplier killed him...

Host sniffled, trying not to cry as he was held, cuddled into Iplier's chest. He'd keep him safe, he'd hold him, he'd let him cry. And sure, he made him sick and killed him, but he also made sure he got healthy again, and got what he deserved.  
And Iplier loved him, didn't he? In some capacity? And Edward too. And if there was no Iplier, there'd be no Edward either. So Host had to take what he was given, and that was usually whatever Iplier decided on giving him and doing to him.  
“Mhh... my lovely..”, Iplier murmured, nuzzling further into Host's hair, curled around the smaller male. He loved his little toy, and he'd make sure his little toy would always stay with him in turn. He caressed Host's arm lightly, happy to hold his pet in his arms.  
Host just let him, let this happen, sniffling and gasping for breath in-between, needing the reassurance that he wasn't alone. Even if all he had was Iplier, the madness that resided in the doctor. At least he was his. At least he belonged to him.

**Author's Note:**

> a little explanation for why host is terrified of his powers  
> which you may not have known but -he's terrified of his powers
> 
> leave a comment if you liked 💜


End file.
